[Corvo's scrapbook.] The Crow's Nest.

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The player scrapbooks forum is literally a place for writers to warm-up, brainstorm, keep little scraps of notes, or just post things to encourage themselves and each other. Each player can feel free to create their own thread - one per account - and use them accordingly.

[Corvo's scrapbook.] The Crow's Nest.

Postby Corvo on August 13th, 2010, 1:00 pm

I'm going to use this place to post short stories I write from time to time and I thought I'd post one I wrote a while ago to start it off. Enjoy. Feel free to comment as well. Opinions are appreciated.

He was afraid to let go, afraid to lose. But who wouldn’t be in such a bleak world filled with gray skies that only parted to let shells rain down. Now if your one who prefers stories that always have happy endings were the princess is saved and everyone lives happily ever after, go read something else. You’re not welcome here. Now shoo. Well, now that they’re gone we can begin this morbid tale.

They marched onward as commanded by their so-called protectors and leaders. They weren’t told where they were going but in a small dark corner of their brain they knew where. It was to their graves. The sad truth was that these men were going of there free will. They knew a massive killing field awaited them. A sea of bodies suspended in time by ungodly forces that had long since been forgotten. The place they were going was simply known as the world of the surreal for there was no other word to describe it.

This realm that lay beyond Insanities Edge was uncharted and ever changing at the beck and call of its demented inhabitants. The rock formation known as Insanities Edge was almost as warped as what was beyond it. Its stone was a deep gray and had a gritty and scratchy texture. It spiraled onward into the heavens until it pierced the overcast that always seemed to cover the once baby blue skies. Massive pieces of stone jetted out from almost every point on it. These pieces of stone twisted and looped into fantastic shapes that seemed impossible.

Now you’re probably wondering why anyone would come to such a strange and dangerous place of their own free will. These people who were being led off to their deaths were soldiers. These nine hundred or so soldiers did not come here out of some sense of honor or duty for their country or even some desire to protect the world they had grown up in that was being devoured ever so slowly.

They simply came here out of a desire for self-preservation. Things off the battlefield were just as bad. In all of the major cities around the world riots were breaking out, food shortages and power outages were a constant. Outbreaks of small pocks and various other diseases, though one disease was becoming more and more common than any other. Insanity. The world just keeps getting more and more fucked up, don’t it? But at least on the frontlines they’d have a gun. Not like it’d do shit against what they’re going to face though. Reality as we know it was on the brink of extinction.
An uneasy silence had wormed its way into humvee. The slight crackling of a lit match broke through the invisible film of silence. Mason dragged on his newly lit cigarette. “Man, put that out.” One of the other soldiers that were packed into the vehicle said. “Fuck off, for all I know this could be the last cigarette I ever have and I’d like to enjoy it without you on my ass.”
They had grinded to a stop and began to funnel out. It took at least half an hour for every soldier to emerge from whichever vehicle they had been assigned to. The massive rock formation infamously known as Insanities edge bore down upon all of them. It spiraling formations of gray rock stretched to look as if it’d impale you if you stepped to close.

“Attention!” The voice of general John Grand boomed from a megaphone. “Today all nine hundred of you soldiers march off into…” He was silent for a moment, pondering his next words. From what he had been told by intel this place was beyond the eyes of god. The few bodies that were recovered were barely recognizable as humans. “You soldiers march off into a place without god.”

Each and every soldier fell silent. Death lingered in the air, and it smelled like smoke. Just like the smoke of the dying embers of one last cigarette. They marched past Insanities Edge and into the surreal.
The dark purple skies seemed to stretch in for an eternity. The crystal blue sand crunched beneath the feet of the many soldiers. Twisted trees sprouted up from the deeper confines of the sand creating a demented forest of gnarled roots and strange sand. “What the hell is this place.” Jon said into the build in mic on his helmet. His voice sounded foggy and hoarse from inside the gas mask they were all required to wear. He was only greeted with silence, because no one knew.

The ground began to shake and tremble. Each and every last grain began to take group together and take form. Soon a head began to form, then a torso and the arms and legs. Each had was clawed and incredibly disfigured. Thumbs and various other fingers were missing on each beast. But it didn’t matter. Most of the soldiers here would barely see their demise. All they’d see is a sea of crystal blue claws crashing down upon them.

The sound of gun shoots flooded the air, only to be replaced with the despair and the final screams of dead men. But only one didn’t scream as he was torn though. He simply took one last drag on his cigarette as he faded into the darkness. There was no light. Your life didn’t flash before your eyes. It was simply darkness. Nothing more, nothing less, but one thought did come to his mind before death claimed him. For once he was scared. He didn’t want to let go of life. But he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

But for dear Mason that wasn’t the end. The feeling of his heart beating, The rush of air entering and then leaving his lungs. It was all something he hadn’t felt for a very long time. Though something was different. He swept a hand through his dark brown curly locks of hair, or where they use to be anyway. A slight shiver went up his spine. Memories rushed into his skull all at once. By all forms of logic and reasoning Mason should be dead and he knew this.
The gray rust stained walls seemed to close in, the dim light grew brighter, the voices of the fallen thundered in his mind. “Why you?! Why did you get brought back?!” The voices of those who died along with Mason on that terrible day screamed and shouted, then utter and complete silence except for the eerie sound of the dim light bulb flickering on and off. Then the light bulb finally died engulfing the room in darkness.

The sound of car horns blared outside the seedy apartment building. Mason jolted awake. Frantic and crazed eyes darted around the room. He leapt up and barreled through a door into the cramped bathroom. Mason starred into the fingerprint stained mirror for a few moments that felt like hours.
A shout of glee escaped his lips. He had his luscious hair, and beautiful glossy eyes back. He wasn’t just some sort of skeletal freak. It was all just a bad dream. The warring, the constant fear, just a horrible, gruesome nightmare that he hoped he’d never have to live for.

Feeling completely relieved he stumbled back to bed and plopped onto his king sized mattress. The only thing that wasn’t too small in the apartment. His eyelids grew heavy as an utter calm overwhelmed him. He drifted off to dream land ever so slowly, but then the sirens went off and the same message that played ten years ago at the beginning of this unholy war played. Mason didn’t move a muscle. His face twisted and scrunched to fight back the tears. He didn’t want to loose it all again, it would just be too much to handle.
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